Definitely not Stanley
by Gil-Mithril with the Birds
Summary: AU AH One-Shot. He follows the music down the the empty corridor.


**Jix Oneshot - Definitely not Stanley.**

 **John P.O.V**

He follows the music down the the empty corridor. It's nothing like the heavy-metal that Stanley blasts from his speakers, the volume up as high as it would go, but rather an eerie piece of classical music. Like something that would be played during a tense scene of a movie. Switching on the lights in the empty corridor, he continues to follow the music towards the Training Room.

Pushing open the double doors with a startlingly loud bang, he sees something that he would've never expected to see, not even in his wildest dreams.

A girl stands posed in the middle of the floor, dressed in a typical ballet dancer outfit. She doesn't seem to notice his entry and if she did she's obviously ignored it.

A black leotard clung to her lithe body, contrasting with the pale stockings running the length of her legs, complete with the pointe shoes wrapped around her feet and ankles. Her long dark hair swept back into a neat bun high on her head. She looks like the definition of elegance herself. But he knew better than that. She's the calm before the storm.

He watches as she moves to the beat of the music, as if they were nothing despite how complicated he knew they ought to be. She moves with the agility of someone who trusted their body completely, he notes absentmindedly. As the music's tempo changed so did she. Mirroring the music with complete and utter ease. As if she's been doing this her whole life.

Slowly, trying not to catch her attention, John shuffles around to get a better view of the way she danced. Creeping along past the covered mirrors, he found himself a position at the front of the Training room which now resembled more of a dance studio. All the equipment had been pushed as far as it would go to the wall, trying to create the biggest space possible with all the equipment in the room.

 _Seems like she only has just got enough room_ he thought. Sitting down, he turns his attention back to her. From here, he notices she mouthing words. _I wonder what it is she's mouthing? Why would she be doing that while she dances?_

In awe, he sits there silently wondering where she leant to dance like this. Not that he doubted her ability, but her schedule always seemed to be full. Whether it was class work or track team, she was always on the move. In a way, he was also quite stunned. He didn't think that she would acknowledge ballet in such a way.

She's the more like the girl who would turn up to school with multiple piercings and a leather jacket daring someone to oppose her, rather than the skilled ballet dancer he was looking at currently. While her usual personality screams being straightforward and sarcastic, whether in public or not, it's the complete and utter opposite to what he see before him as her dance continues to unfold itself. It was a new side of her that he'd never seen. One where she wore a leotard and pointes, instead of her training gear or her trademark jeans and leather jacket paired with her worn out converse. _But it's a good side,_ John muses. _A softer one too_. 

The music suddenly turns frantic as do her movements. He watches as she turns on her pointes and leaps across the studio. Her arms raised above her head when the music reaches its peak before it slowly dies down and finishes.

John wasn't sure what compelled him to do it, but he claps against his better judgement. Then he realises his mistake.

He had clapped. Loudly.

 _Well shit. Nice knowing you buddy._

He stood there frozen as she turns around slowly to face him, her grey eyes turning to the colour of steel and seem only to grow colder. Her glare piercing, her stare narrowing down on him like a hawk. But he couldn't help but notice the faint blush colouring her cheeks.

 _She's pretty when she blushes. Like really pretty. Maybe I should tell her one day...if i'm still alive if that look she's sending me is any clue. Shit._

Even with the blush rising on her cheeks and the classic ballerina outfit, she still was a force to be reckoned with and certainly one to be feared. If there was a possibility, which John didn't think there was, he froze more.

"John," she seethes, her tone low and steady. The way a panther would growl at its prey. "How long have you been in here for?"

Trying to maintain his usual cool, calm and collected aura he tries to respond as casually as possible. "Ahhh … not very long," he says, actually more liked squeaks as his confidence vanishes and his voice breaks.

 _Nice one, she definitely sees you as a confident person._

If Stanley was here right now, he would never live this down. He silently thanked Joseph, seeing as it was his idea to pull a prank on their gym teacher, which ultimately landed him and Stanley in detention.

He mentally scolded himself, _wow she's totally going to think you're amazing now isn't she. Definitely a candidate of her affection_ , he thought sarcastically. Running his fingers through his blond hair, his face reddens.

 _Just brilliant John._

"That was beautiful," he replied, trying to regain his confidence. "You were amazing." He watched as colour tinged her cheeks once again.

"Thanks...I guess," she stuttered. Internally, he rose an eyebrow. This wasn't much like the the confident Maren he knew. _How long she had been dancing for? Is that why she's stuttering?_

"Pardon," she said, her eyebrow raised.

 _Oh man, did I say that out loud._

"Yes you did John," Maren states dryly. "Anyway, even if you didn't, you think really loud. Your face and body language give it away."

"I suppose you want an explanation. Well, you know how Katarina looked after me after my parents disappeared." She says as she walks towards the side of the room with her bags. She gestures for him to stand next to her as she undoes her ribbons and he complies.

"When I was younger, Katarina would take me to her studio and teach me different styles of dance." Her face becoming softer as she continues to talk.

"Ballet was her favourite, so we would spend most of our time practising and learning it. Well rather me, she had already learnt it." A choked laugh escapes her lips as her face becomes pensive.

With her bag packed and her converse back on her feet, John takes her bags from her hands despite her half-hearted protest. Pulling her up onto her feet, the two of them began to walk towards the doors when she suddenly stops again.

"I can still remember it."

"I had always been interested in learning how to defend myself and being seen as strong in other people's eyes, ballet wasn't going to make me seem strong. Losing both of my parents and being called an orphan everyday by those other kids..."

Her voice trailed off, he could see she wanted to drop that part of the subject, clearly it was a wound that had never been healed, and her point had been communicated clearly enough to him.

"It was my first ever lesson for martial arts and Katarina was on her way to pick me up. Everyone else's caregivers had arrived but Katarina wasn't there. Time ticked on, ten minutes turned into half an hour, half an hour turned into an hour and she still hadn't arrived. When a car pulled into the carpark, I finally thought she was here but it was the Police." She pauses, closing hers for a moment before continuing. "Katarina had died in a car accident. A woman driving her car with her family inside had crashed into Katarina's car. The situation was horribly ironic. My two parents had disappeared, my only next of kin, Katarina had died and yet that family walked off without a scratch and… I had no one. I _have_ _no one._ "

She slid down the wall a throwing her head back in a bitter laugh as a lone tear escapes.

Confused with what else he could do, John lowers himself down to sit next to her. "You know what John?" she asked bitterly. Without waiting for an answer she continues.

"I don't why but I threw myself into martial arts after she died. I couldn't bring myself to keep dancing. Not even tap. She was horrible at that. The same deal with track after I got in," she managed to choke out.

"So why did you start dancing again" John asked puzzled. Not at her story, but at Maren herself. She was on the ground with her head in her hands, and her shoulders shaking. With a shock, he realised she was crying. Her determined, strong willed demeanour had broken. Her walls had fallen down. And he's the only one there to witness it.

Going on instinct, he puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her towards his chest, with Maren's dark hair brushing against his chin. 

Without hesitation she pulled herself closer until she was enveloped within John's arms. Then she continued on as John started to pull out some of the pins holding the bun in its rigid form.

Then she continued on, "I guess cause with everything going, I guess that I was forgetting about my past."

"Hey it's not necessarily a bad thing you know, sometimes we have to," he says gently.

"But sometimes I forget what she was like. The simplest things. Things I knew like the back of my hand years ago. I tried to remember her encouragements when I was dancing."

 _So that's what she was mouthing._

She didn't need to talk anymore, he understood that the silence was what was going to heal her. Although Maren was strong, some part of him knew that she would need someone to lean on when she really needed it. Someone who now knew.

His voice softens as he begins to comfort her. "I know this is tough for you and I can't imagine what it's like going through something like that, but I will always be there for you no matter what," he whispers in her hair. 

Maren pulls away her eyes red from crying, she holds out her pinky finger wanting to signify the promise he made to her. He gives a small smile at this gesture.

"I promise," he says as he wraps his pinky around her smaller one and shakes it. He notices a small twitch of her lips, before they spread themselves into a smile as she stares at this joint pinkies. 

He then gets onto his feet, then grabs her hands and lifts her onto her own. They stand there together for what was only a few moments but John swears it was hours before she removed her hands from his gentle grasp and starts to gather bags.

"Can you promise me one more thing John." Her voice as quiet as a whisper as he hands over the pins. 

"Anything."

In a matter of those few seconds her tone returns to the normal seriousness it usually occupies "Swear that under no circumstances, whatsoever that you will never tell Stanley about any of this, ever."

"I promise."

"Good and one other thing."

Her lips brush his lightly in the softest of touches but as as soon as it started, the end of it had come.

She darts of through the double doors and into the corridor her feet slapping the pavement and the wind releasing her hair from its weak bun until it's whipping through her hair in the most beautiful way John's ever seen. Her fast pace not slowing down despite the bulky bags on her shoulder as she turns around the corner. 

He stands there dumbstruck before gathering his thoughts and making his way back towards the main centre of the high school nearing his dorm and replaying those last few moments with Maren over and over in his head.

 _And I thought it was Stanley dancing._


End file.
